Dissippate
by Unknown Soldier Shadow
Summary: "Being forgotten is nothing to fear. Not even the stars last forever. All cats fade and disappear eventually. They've earned their peace." A short musing on the life of a fading StarClan warrior.


**So I was on my way back from Rome.**

**I had just read Fading Echoes (I know, delayed, right?) and was mildly astonished at some of the content. I mean, first of all, *SPOILER ALERT* StarClan cats can just waltz into the Dark Forest and go for visits? And Yellowfang is scared of her son now, is she? Not to mention his description totally changed, but of course the Erins have never done that before -coughTIGERHEARTcough- **

**But I digress.**

**So I got to the part where Yellowfang and Jayfeather are talking about cats of StarClan and we have this neat little bit of dialogue:**

_**Jayfeather began to realize that the other pelts were paler too. Some so ghostly they hardly seemed there at all. More like mist than flesh.**_

_**"Are those cats half-dead too?" he asked Yellowfang as a wraithlike tortoiseshell cross their path, hardly acknowledging Yellowfang's greeting nod.**_

_**She shook her head. "They've been here a long, long time," she explained. "So long that they're forgotten."**_

_**"By everyone?" The thought chilled Jayfeather.**_

_**"Being forgotten is nothing to fear. Not even the stars last forever. All cats fade and disappear eventually. They've earned their peace."**_

**I don't know if you can tell from my written sarcasm, but I think that is TOTAL CRAP. I mean, come on, "Being forgotten is nothing to fear?" Isn't that the whole freaking point of StarClan, Erin Hunter? So what you're telling me is that if they're there long enough, they just...disappear? Isn't that contradictory to your dear little favorite, Rock? COME ON.**

**-takes deep breath-**

**Anyway, this is just a little doodling I wrote on my eleven hour plane trip. D: Amongst the sound of wailing infants (Good Lord, I hate babies) and interesting airplane food, I wrote this oneshot. Hope ya enjoy it~ **

* * *

The plains of StarClan sat cold and silent tonight, Brightshine thought idly, sweeping her long black tail down the long grass at her side. Usually, the cats of the younger generations were ambling about, purring loudly and catching prey, but tonight was unusually still, no one in sight.

_For right now. _Brightshine shut her eyes, yawning widely. It seemed harder to stay awake these days, like her thoughts kept trickling away like a stream to the lake.

The lake. The unfamiliarity of the word still brought a spin of incomprehension to her ancient mind. In her day—the golden days when ShadowClan had ruled the old forest, matched in strength only by a united ThunderClan and RiverClan—there had been no lake. The Clans had been strong then, not this pathetic "Let's be friends, everybody" mentality of the present day. The sparse woods of _her_ Clan in _her _day were thick with prey in green-leaf, and every cat in the Clan had benefitted from her hunting prowess. Even in leaf-bare, Carrionplace was full of fat rats, just waiting for the silent stalking grace of a ShadowClan cat to catch them by surprise, ending their lives with a quick slash to the throat or a snap to the backbone. Closing her eyes—eyes kept youthful and bright in this next world—she remembered her apprentice days, seasons upon seasons upon seasons ago.

Herself as Brightpaw had been a rambunctious, feisty young apprentice. She was always getting into trouble—tag-teaming with her best friend, an oaky-colored tom named Leapingpaw. His bright yellow gaze burned in her mind even now, as it did when she usually thought fondly of him. Strong and proud, he was a fearless apprentice, dragging her into more schemes and poorly-thought out plans than she could even remember. But every single time, she'd gone along willingly, risking life and limb just to be by his side in adventures, exhilarated and daring.

/"Brightpaw, one day we're going to be the best in the Clan," he had told her boldly one morning while they patrolled, lingering behind the older warriors on the patrol—for some odd reason, Brightshine couldn't remember their names at the moment. "We'll be the top in the Clan. I'll be the leader and you'll be my deputy. And after that, ShadowClan will be the strongest in the Clan—stronger than the rest of those ratty-pelted Clans combined."

"Yeah!" she had agreed fiercely. "And then there'll only need to be one Clan, right?"

But Leapingpaw had shook his head. "If there's only one Clan, how will we rule them all?"

And she had laughed, of course, but that statement had stuck with her for the rest of her life—the exact wording, she could remember it still, and the meaning behind it.

Leapingpaw couldn't be repressed—he was confident, arrogantly so sometimes, and physically could not back down from a challenge. He was smart, quick-minded, and could always come up with a plan on the fly, saving ShadowClan from a needless battle more than once. The leader of the time—_Wait, what was her name again? It was a she-cat, right?_—had been impressed with him, telling him often that he was going places. Brightshine had seen the leader watching Leapingpaw during their training, her eyes sharp whenever he performed something astounding.

And Brightshine had been proud.

But there was something wrong with Leapingpaw—he had a bad foot and walked with a limp. When he was a tiny kit, he'd fallen down off of a rock and twisted his paw, and it had never worked right after that. And Leapingpaw _hated_ his bad foot, cursing it more than once, and sometimes flying into violent rages whenever he couldn't do something as easily as another cat.

And Brightshine had feared him./

A cricket chirped nearby, making Brightshine jump. A StarClan cat had come padding close—close enough for even her old ears to pick out—and crept into a nearby bush, disturbing the insect. "Come on out," she called. "I can hear you."

But the cat moved on without regard for her; she could see his gray fur as he sauntered away.

Shrugging, Brightshine dropped her head back down onto the grass.

/Yes, Leapingpaw had been something, she thought. And when they became warriors together, they'd still stuck together. Leapingflight and Brightshine. Partners, best friends, companions. Inseparable. So similar that they were like one mind, a single cat in two bodies, but so different that they were like fire and ice. An oxymoron that made the Clan drift away from them, nervously bristling or outright staring, as the two young cats stood together, light and dark, sun and shadow, hard and soft. Impossible and yet possible, their bond went deeper than blood, deeper than allegiance.

Yes, Brightshine thought now, admiringly, Leapingflight had been her everything./

Brightshine huffed now, getting to her paws in that starry landscape, tired of the thought. She shook out her long black fur and padded toward the heart of StarClan's hunting grounds, forgetting for a moment where it was. It had been so long since she'd been there—_Has it been a day? Maybe two…not more than that. Certainly not more than that—_but her paws lead her right eventually.

StarClan's camp was wide and expansive, stretching up over a hill and out of sight. Half of it was shaded from the delicate sunshine that sporadically appeared here—_Is there night and day here in StarClan?_—by large willow trees. Brightshine disliked coming into the camp nowadays: it was filled with unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar smells, all touched by that stupid lake. _StarClan_, she hated that lake. What was the point of leaving the territories in the first place, anyway? It was perfectly fine the last time she checked, the trees of ShadowClan tall and strong as always, shading the proud cats who ThunderClan claimed were cold-hearted from the wind that blew the dry pine needles across the bare ground.

Come to think of it, Brightshine couldn't remember why she had come here in the first place. There was no hunger in StarClan—no cold either—but these cats insisted on sticking together. Even as she walked by, she smelled the rotten leaf scent of a group of ThunderClan cats, their laughing loud and grating on Brightshine's ears.

Glowering darkly at them with an expression that had terrified her Clanmates back in her day, she stalked, stiff-legged, past them. She knew that others feared her gaze—a bright, burning coppery gaze—and she also knew that that was an advantage on the battlefield. Leapingflight had been adamant about his admiration for them.

/"Like the sun, Brightshine," he used to say, that edgy tone of voice he liked to use sometimes thick in his words. "They're like the sun. They're beautiful—_you're_ beautiful, Brightshine."

Even now, through that haze of memory and through the dim seasons that separated her present self from that moment, she could remember the instant that he'd said those words, that he'd called her beautiful. And that was the same instant she knew she loved him, more desperately and inexplicably and terrifyingly than she'd ever loved anyone./

The ThunderClan cats sitting near her didn't even look over at her glare. _They're afraid of me, _she thought, with a rush of some emotion she couldn't identify—_Pride? Fear? Hate? _—and she went on her way, coldly ignoring them as well.

The scent of ShadowClan hit the roof of her mouth and she turned, surprised. A single warrior sat just behind her, not quite looking at her, a frown on his face. He was handsome, she noticed with a rather dull pang in her belly, with dark brown fur shot through with streaks of a lighter gold and eyes that looked like a cold sky. He looked nothing like Leapingflight, but he _did _look familiar, but in a way she couldn't quite place.

"Who are you?" she whispered, her voice soft and ragged in the silent air.

He blinked those pale eyes of his. Peering closely, his eyes flickering to her face and away, he mewed, "Are you there?"

She frowned at him, annoyed now. "Of course I am, mousebrain," she hissed. "I'm a fox-length from you."

The tom's ears flicked, but he said nothing more. Tilting his head, he looked in her direction curiously, then passed by her without a word, his long plumy tail nearly brushing her flank.

She bristled away from his closeness. "Hey!" she spat. "Watch where you're going!"

He didn't turn around. Disappearing under the edge of a low-hanging beech branch, his ShadowClan scent vanished with him.

Brightshine felt irritated by the tom, her fur prickling and her ears flat against her head. A growl rumbled low in her chest. _How dare he ignore me! _she railed. _Don't I command the same respect as I always have? Am I not a ShadowClan warrior? Insolent kit. _

She closed her eyes at the wave of nostalgia, opening them to see herself perched at the base of ShadowClan's split old tree trunk.

/The leader sat on top. She had cold gray eyes—_Gray? I thought they were maybe a bright green_—and a look of suspicion as she looked down at Brightshine. Her deputy looked worse than ever, her blue-gray pelt patchy and unkempt. As Brightshine watched, the deputy sniffled, immediately evoking a wracking cough that nearly doubled her over. But the leader didn't even look at her second-in-command; her eyes were on Brightshine and Leapingflight.

Leapingflight was at Brightshine's side—always at her side—and leaned over to whisper in her ear, "She suspects us."

The thought sent a chill down Brightshine's spine.

"We'll have to fix this." He kept his blazing green eyes focused on the leader. "We can't give up now when we're so close. Her deputy is going to die soon—it's inevitable. We need to make sure that we take action quickly before the position is given to someone else."

"Yes," she found herself agreeing, the scent of Leapingflight in her nostrils and the warmth of his shoulder pressed against hers blocking out her reason. "When?"

His expression changed then, drastically as it usually did, to something that was more hungry than anything. "Tonight," he breathed./

Brightshine frowned now, thinking with one paw scraping dully through the soft grass at her paws. _Suspects us, _she thought. _Suspects us of what? _

But she couldn't remember. She cursed, loudly. Why couldn't she remember? Did it not happen to her? Did she not live that life down there in that warm world below once? Did she not walk with Leapingflight through her memories still? Thousands of times, countless times. But now, even straining so that her head ached with the effort, she could not remember.

/Leapingflight and Brightshine stalked through ShadowClan's territory, the cold moon above shining on their backs. She could just make out the shape of Leapingflight's perked ears in the glimmering light of the full moon, and his whiskers shone silver. His odd, lurching gait was as familiar as her own heartbeat as she followed behind him, keeping her belly low to the ground. ShadowClan blood ran through and through in their veins, and the instinct to keep hidden was uncontrollable. They flew through the woods like silent owls, eyes wide and unblinking as they hunted their prey.

But unlike owls, their prey was not a mouse.

Leapingflight stopped suddenly, that hungry glint back in his eyes. "She'll be here soon," he said, his voice more of an exhale of breath than a whisper. "And we'll be ready."

Brightshine looked out past his shoulder to see the gaping hole of Mothermouth in front of them. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said grimly. "This is the full moon. Leaders come here every full moon, remember?" He turned to face her, eyes shining white and sightless in the gleam of light. "Are you ready for this? We'll have to be absolutely flawless."

She nodded fiercely. "I'm ready."

His gaze softened as he lowered his head toward her, pressing his muzzle against hers. She was breathless for a moment: Leapingflight was never like this. His voice was soft and even as he mewed, "No matter what happens tonight, I want you to know that I love you, Brightshine."

And her heart had soared; she felt giddy, shivery inside. It was as if all of her dreams had come true at once. Her heart hammered in her chest, but before she could reply, he turned back to the entrance to the cave and whispered quickly, "She's there!"

Brightshine, exhilarated, looked past his shoulder. The ShadowClan leader's stark white pelt stuck out on the dull gray landscape like a blackbird on snow. Brightshine felt her muscles tense with adrenaline, and she quickly glanced back over at Leapingflight. "What's the plan?"

"I'll go and distract her," he said, eyes fixed on the leader. "You come from behind and hold her down. I'll finish it."

The words that she'd heard him say time and time again never ceased to frighten her.

Noticing this, he turned his warm green eyes back on her. "I promise, this will all go as planned. When I become the deputy, it will all be worth it. The end justifies the means. Just remember that, Brightshine." He pressed his chin against her neck. "Trust me."

For one wild second, Brightshine wanted to rake her claws down his face. She wanted to demand that he come to his senses, that this was their leader—their StarClan-approved leader—and that the starry warriors wouldn't want them to do this. It was abhorrent, disgusting, and just…wrong. The wrongness rang through her chest, making her feel like she was going to be sick. But as much as she feared him, her love for Leapingflight was far stronger. So she said:

"I do."/

Brightshine yawned widely, stretching herself out on the long grass, keeping one eye looking out for that brown tom. He'd come so suddenly—almost out from the mist that had gathered, it seemed—and disappeared just as quickly. He had looked right at her—_Or looked through me, really—_but had said nothing to her after she demanded him to.

Not like that hadn't happened before, she mused, rolling onto her back and exposing her snowy belly, stretching her white paws above her head and looking how the stars shone between the webbing of her toes. She'd had warriors pad up to her—their faces unrecognizable—and simply walk away after looking at her in confusion. Were they wondering who she was? She had been a high ranking warrior in her day—maybe not for very long, she thought with an odd, tugging sensation in her belly—but the point was moot.

Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she had spoken to anyone here and they had responded.

/"Okay," Leapingflight hissed, crouching down. "Here I go. Look for my signal—I'll curl my tail over my back and look up at the sky."

"Good luck," Brightshine said just as softly, pressing her nose to his shoulder fur for one instant.

His eyes glinted at her and then he was gone.

She waited in the brush, still crouched in preparation, as she locked her gaze on the leader. She was totally unknowing of what was about to hit her—literally—and simply lounged on a rock, her eyes watching to see when the full moon would reach its apex so she could speak to her warrior ancestors.

_Too bad she'll be going to meet them soon. _The thought came with a sickening roil in her stomach. Brightshine thought she was going to be sick. Her limbs were shaky and her mind was spinning, sending streaks of near slow-motion shadows across her vision.

The thought struck her suddenly, and in that burst of realization, she came to one, true fact.

_I can't do this._

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest and her breathing accelerated until her own wild panting was all she could hear. It was wrong, she knew, unable to see why she couldn't have know that before. She couldn't do it. She couldn't help to kill the leader. It was wrong, it was _murder_. Coldblooded murder. And she couldn't allow herself to do it.

"Oh, StarClan," she whimpered, her voice thin and uneven. Leapingflight had just strode into view, his limping noticeable even from this distance. His beautiful fur—red-brown and silky, with banding on his tan legs, and a snowy white muzzle—was distinguishable, far too distinguishable to back down now.

The leader shot to her paws. Her mouth opened, her demanding voice cold and unintelligible from Brightshine's position.

Leapingflight was arrogant as usual, his eyes flashing boldly as he walked closer, sitting down calmly in front of the leader he was planning to murder. He spoke to her conversationally for a moment.

Her ears pricked. Sitting down slowly, the leader asked him something, a tense expression on her face.

Leapingflight responded easily, that cocky tilt to his ears making Brightshine's heart ache. She knew immediately that she had to stop him from doing this. He was going to ruin any chance of living in ShadowClan, any chance of living in _StarClan_ after he died! She couldn't allow him to do this.

Just as she made up her mind to go, he got to his paws, his tail swishing over his back as his eyes slid up as if to contemplate the stars.

_No!_ she thought, wildly out of control as she sped toward her leader and the cat that she loved and hated, admired and feared, loathed and respected. His eyes flashed and he raised on paw, the tips of his claws sparking in the light like bolts of lightning.

"NO!" She knocked the leader to the side, standing over her prone body, protecting her from Leapingflight. She turned to him, desperation in her every movement and whispered, "No."

But Leapingflight's eyes didn't have his shine now; they were the cold green of frozen leaves. His eyes slid past her disbelieving eyes to the leader, and he spoke to her, ignoring Brightshine:

"I told you she would try to kill you."/

There was a sharp rustling sound, and Brightshine spun around to land on her paws. "Who's there?" she demanded, her back arched. "Leave me alone!"

But the cat either didn't hear her or ignored her, for he stepped into view.

Brightshine felt a spark of disbelief: it was that handsome tom again.

His eyes wandered around the clearing. "Are you here?" he yelled, louder than their distance called for.

She growled at him, walking closer until they were nose to nose. "What do you want?" she hissed.

He recoiled as if he'd been stung. "So you are here. I knew it."

Tilting her head to one side, Brightshine hissed, "Are you an idiot? Of course I'm here."

The tom backed up several steps, his blue eyes still unfocused. "I thought I was hallucinating when I first heard you. It's amazing that you're here."

Laughing without humor, Brightshine rolled her eyes and asked, "Then you must be pretty lame-brained. There are plenty of cats in StarClan."

Ignoring her insult, he said, "My name is Rowanleaf. I was a part of ShadowClan many seasons ago when the Clans still lived in the forest." His eyes narrowed contemplatively. "You smell of ShadowClan, but I don't recognize your scent or your voice. How long have you been here?"

The question was confusing to her. "What do you mean?"

"How long have you been in StarClan?" he clarified, his mew deep and rich—very unlike Leapingflight's high confident voice.

Brightshine sat down, hard. "Seasons. Many, many seasons."

"Is there anyone still here that you know?" His voice was pitying. Sympathetic. It made her fur bristle.

"I don't need to know anyone," she spat. "I'm fine by myself!"

Rowanleaf's mew was amused when he replied, "You sound very sure of that fact, don't you?"

She just stared at him, hoping he could feel the power of her anger. "Don't patronize me. You don't even know me."

"You're right," he agreed, nodding. "You haven't told me your name yet."

Now Brightshine hesitated. "You don't need to know it."

"But aren't you glad to have found someone to talk to?" he pressed. "I'll tell you about myself if you tell me about yourself. How's that sound?"

For some reason, Brightshine didn't want to tell him anything. "I have to be going now." She got to her paws and started toward the way she'd come. "Don't follow me."

"Wait!" He bounded to her side, nearly touching her again, and then stood too-close to her face, his whiskers brushing her face. He started, as if he hadn't noticed that fact, and stepped back several pawsteps. "Sorry. Please, I just want to talk. No one talks to me anymore."

Him either? The thought rang with strangeness. "And why's that?" she drawled, remembering the way that Leapingflight discouraged others from talking to him.

His eyes suddenly looked older, and she felt a spark of that same recognition she'd felt earlier. "Because I'm fading."

"Fading!" she echoed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rowanleaf looked sad. "I've been here for far too long. Nobody remembers me—they can't even remember my name. Soon enough, I'll disappear into nothingness."

Brightshine was skeptical. "Who told you that?"

"A cat long ago. I can't remember his name anymore. I think he had…gray eyes. Maybe."

His statement struck home—she had made the same mistake with her leader—making Brightshine's heart feel chill. "You can't remember a cat's eyes?" she scoffed, but her voice sounded strangled.

"I can only remember my own name and my first prey as an apprentice." His expression grew more distant. "The cat who told me I'd disappear also told me we only remember our strongest memory before we go. So, I guess that means my strongest memory was my first kill. It was a vole; I caught it next to ShadowClan's border with ThunderClan—right on the edge of the Thunderpath. I gave it to…" He seemed to struggle with words for a moment before he added, "an elder. I didn't even get to taste it."

Brightshine felt a cold twist in her belly. "And…you'll disappear now?" she asked, her throat dry.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I told you my name so that you would remember me, but I don't even know if that will work." He looked at her desperately, his expression painful to look at. "I don't want you to fade either. You're already far away."

Shock jolted in her belly like a blow. "What do you mean?" she demanded hoarsely. "I'm not fading! I'm still here!"

But Rowanleaf just shook his head again. "I can't see you," he admitted in a whisper.

Brightshine looked down at her chest—the white spot in the same place as usual—and then to her paws, glancing over her back at her flank and tail. "I'm still here!" she insisted, her voice edging more toward a panic. "I'm not fading!"

"You are," he said, wearily. "And so am I."

"But I can still see you," she argued hotly, angry and terrified. "I can see you. You have brown fur and blue eyes and…" She trailed off, her mouth hanging open in shock when she realized it.

Directly behind Rowanleaf wavered a single daisy flower, the white head bobbing joyfully in the air. Directly behind him…but she couldn't see behind him: she was seeing _through _him.

A strangled sound of shock came out of her throat before she could stop it.

Rowanleaf winced at her reaction as if it had hurt him physically. "You see it now?" he asked softly. "I didn't even know it until recently. I'm fading away. Soon I'll be gone and no one will remember me. No one will know that I ever existed."

"That's a lie!" Brightshine yowled, backing up quickly now, cringing away from him. "It's a lie! I'm still remembered! I won't fade away! I…I won't!"

"Then tell me your name," he said desperately. "Tell me your name and I'll remember you. You can remember me, too. It might…It might make a difference."

Brightshine just shook her head, eyes wide. Like a plunge into cold water, she returned into her memory—the strongest memory she had, she realized with a gut-wrenching twist.

/Brightshine could only gape up at Leapingflight.

Rough claws dug into her pelt, throwing her off of the leader. Four warriors held her down, their eyes narrowed in disbelief…and hate, she realized with a surge of shock.

The leader got to her paws, eyes hard as ice as she looked at Brightshine. "I would have never…" She had to stop and compose herself before continuing. "You were a smart, sweet she-cat, Brightshine. How could you do this to ShadowClan? To me? I'm your leader, for StarClan's sake!"

Brightshine didn't understand. Her eyes wandered to where Leapingflight stood just behind the leader. His expression was unreadable.

"Well?" The weak deputy padded into view, one ear twisted to the side as she glared poisonously down at Brightshine, pinned on the ground like a traitor. "What do you have to say in your defense?"

Brightshine just looked at her. The deputy's pelt was bristling and there was hate glowing in her eyes like smoldering coals, but Brightshine couldn't bring herself to speak to her. She just stared like an idiot.

The leader's breath came quick and shallow, and her eyes were wide and astonished still. Her eyes locked on Brightshine's face, unseeingly, and then she cleared her throat and said, "Get her back to camp and out of my sight."

Brightshine was nudged roughly to her feet, and she stumbled along in the center of the tightly-grouped warriors, her paws so numb she couldn't even feel them. Leapingflight walked just in front of her—she could smell his familiar scent and hear his voice as he calmly spoke with the leader. "I tried to warn you," he was saying, his voice so far away it felt like there was grass stuffed in Brightshine's ears. "I tried to tell you she was planning this. You didn't believe me."

And the leader was nodding, still gulping down air uncontrollably. "You were right, Leapingflight," she rasped. "You were right."

It felt like seconds before they were back in camp. Brightshine's Clanmates stared at her in unmasked horror as she was lead to the old den in the corner and thrown inside.

She hit the ground with a huff of air—finally feeling something—and wheezed on the ground for a moment, curling herself into a ball of pain.

There were two guards at the mouth of the den, facing the outside, their shoulders tense and stiff. She could smell them—she _knew_ them—but they said nothing to her.

They thought she was a traitor./

"My name?" Brightshine repeated. "I don't…" But Rowanleaf couldn't remember anything, she realized. Even if he was a part of ShadowClan after she was, he wouldn't know her. "My name is Brightshine," she whispered.

"Brightshine," he echoed, like he was testing the sound of the name. "And what is your strongest memory, Brightshine?"

Feeling a rush of painful, humorless laugher bubble up out of her throat, she choked out, "My strongest memory is the moment I died."

/The next morning, Leapingflight came to see her.

She stared at him, not understanding what had happened, not understanding why he was here.

Calmly, he said, "Come walk with me, Brightshine."

It felt like she couldn't breathe. "Walk?" she echoed, like she'd never heard the word.

"I got permission from our leader," he said. "Walk with me."

Numbly, she got to her paws and followed him out of the den. The stares of her Clanmates scorched her pelt like fire, hateful and painful. She looked back at them—her kin, her friends, her leader—but all of them wore the same expression of loathing.

Leapingflight led the way out of the camp, not looking back over his shoulder. Brightshine followed him, heart aching, dying to say something to him, but her mouth was a dry as sand. What could she possibly say to him?

He stopped just short of Carrionplace. Taking a weighty, shaky breath, he turned to face her, his green eyes not shining with their normal light. "Brightshine, you've been convicted of attempting to murder ShadowClan's leader."

She looked blankly at him, not comprehending.

Noticing this, he went on: "You are no longer a member of ShadowClan."

At this, her legs began to quiver. "Why?" was all she asked.

Leapingflight was emotionless when he replied, "I had to move up in ranks."

"And…you used…me?" Her tongue felt heavy under the words she never dreamed she would ever say.

He nodded blithely. "There was no way I could ever move up in the Clan with _this._" He shot a glance toward his wounded paw, curled on the ground like a blunt-edged club. "I had to think it over. It had to be calculated, planned. It had to be big enough so that no matter what happened, I would become the deputy. I couldn't show off with hunting or fighting, so I used what I had: my brain.

"It didn't start out like that, though," he said as he went on. "You were my best friend long before I decided I needed to become leader. I needed a companion, I needed _you_, Brightshine, to make everything fall into place." He stood there, calm and arrogant like he usually did, but this time it was different—it was wrong.

"You told me you loved me," she rasped out.

His eyes were calm when he replied, "I knew it would get you to do what I wanted. You were too easy to use, Brightshine. You've always been too easy to use. I knew the moment that we became friends that that could be useful to me." He dipped his head. "And you were. Thank you, Brightshine, for helping me to become deputy. Unfortunately for you, this is the end."

Gasping, she grasped what he meant—sickeningly clear—for the first time. She backed up several paces quickly, stumbling over her paws, but he just calmly walked forward.

"I do love you, Brightshine," he murmured. "But I love ShadowClan more. I can be what's good for them. I can be the next leader that pushes ShadowClan to greatness. I know it. I was _born _for this, Brightshine. You didn't die in vain."

She knew it was hopeless now, with a sense of horrified clarity. She'd seen the calm determination in his eyes. That serene letting go.

And that was when he had to hold her down./

Rowanleaf didn't look as disgusted as Brightshine would have imagined. "I don't even remember how I died," he admitted. "I don't think it was painful. Yours?"

Brightshine turned her face away. She didn't want to give him the details.

"I see," he murmured, as if reading her mind. "Well, Brightshine, I'm afraid that our time is almost up here."

She could sense it as well. Already, a slow coldness was creeping up her legs and spine, cold as leaf-bare in ShadowClan's territory. "Thank you…Rowanleaf," she managed to say.

"The pleasure is all mine, Brightshine." His voice was faint now. "Don't…don't forget me."

"I won't," she whispered, but he was already gone. And the next instant, with a soft exhale of breath in a sigh of relief—relief now that she didn't have to think about anything anymore—so was she.

And around the place where they had been, there was no sound to be heard, save for a chirping of a single cricket.

* * *

**Yeah, there was a bit of influence from The Shining in there, I'm afraid. Not to mention Shiver and Linger by Maggie Stiefvater-read her books, read her books-in a bit of the dialogue. This probably turned out a little...er, off-kilter because of my severe jetlagged-ness. Florida and most of Europe differ by a time of six hours, so right now my body's like, "YOU FRICKIN' MORON. What the heck are you doing up writing at seven at night? Go eat dinner!" XD**

**Anyway, R&R, I suppose. :P**

**Shadow**


End file.
